


charity

by solitariusvirtus



Series: Uncanny Westeros (Otherworlds) [26]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, F/M, Modern Westeros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: “You have me, and you have Margaret in your corner. Surely you are not truly afraid.”“You put much weight on my shoulders, Robert. Of course I am afraid.”AU! The heated debates on great issues brings the daughter of a former member of the Small Council back to court.





	charity

Lyanna spread the jam over her piece of toast, eyes peeled to the wordprint. The sound of a small scuffle erupted somewhere in the small hall beyond the slightly ajar door, monetarily calling to mind an image of bruised-knuckled little boys which in turn twisted her lips ever so slightly. A moment later, the door hit against the wall, allowing in a couple of bright-eyed boys. Her brother’s children tottered over to her, a chorus of greeting on their lips, along with a stream of babble which made little enough sense when she refused to concentrate on it.

“Aunty,” Edwyle tugged on her arm, apparently desperate to gain her attention. “Father is coming home.”

 

 

 

“My dear, just because you have no ambition, the rest of us should not be tied down.” Lyanna ‘s gaze met her kin’s. Margaret Karstark put down her cup of tea and brought a hand to cover her mouth, liquid and laughter spewing forth in an indelicate manner.

“Cersei, dearest, those who are clearly incapable of foreseeing the consequences of their action should and must be kept well away from power,” Lyanna managed. “Thankful as I am for your offer, I must refuse. Margaret, I am sure, will give you her own answer.”  

Margaret shot her a frightening glare. She merely pushed back her chair and stood.

 

 

 

The Maester had begun speaking of the Great Book, laying out the importance and contribution of the work in the grand scheme of thing when a small folded piece of paper discreetly landed in front of Lyanna. She rolled her eyes and dragged it down to her lap. She unfolded it gently, careful to keep her eyes on the man sitting at the head of the classroom.

Predictably, it was one of those requests. A sigh left her lips as she cleared her throat. “Maester, the Great Book contains the wisdom of many ages, correct?” The man, known for leniency as far as debate went, paused, looked at her and then allowed that she had the right of it. “Then pray, how does it go attributing values between men and women?”

 

 

 

“It’s a new age, Lya. You shouldn’t take everything that windbag says to heart,” Celyne Peasebury laughed. “What does it matter what some old, musty book says?”

“Perhaps you would like to hand me the keys to your house, Celyne. I do so love the garden there.” Her companion gave her a confused look. “After all, what does it matter that some old, anachronistic law grants you sole right of property?”

“Now you’re just being unfair.”

“If you do not understand the purpose of a rule, you’ve no right to change it. When you understand the why of the situation, we can debate transformation to the rules.”

“A wolf through and through,” someone commented from behind her.

 

 

 

“I was truly sorry to hear about Ned.” There was something equally comforting about Robert’s presence as it was repellent. He’d not changed overmuch.  With relief, Lyanna thought of the wedding that would never happen. “I thought perhaps the quick intervention might have been enough.”

“All that matters to me is that my brother is alive.” Her fingers curled around her cup of tea. “As for the rest, if the gods are kind, we shall pull through.”

“Speaking of pulling through, I was wondering if you would be willing to accompany me to King’s Landing?”

“Whatever for?”

“To be perfectly frank, the stroke of your pen is the mightiest weapon at my disposal right now.”

“How the mighty have fallen.”   

 

 

 

“Are you certain?” Lyanna avoided meeting her brother’s dull gaze. One of the eyes has healed quite well. The other, a glass replica, unnerved her still even after turns of having him back home. The ruins of his face, though, were the most brutal of blows. “Posterity will not look upon you with any sort of kindness.”

“Not immediate posterity, I imagine,” she supplied, her fingers still moving the tip of her old-fashioned quill upon the paper. “You were quite upset with mother too whenever she imposed restrictions.”

“Is that what you mean to be?”

“Not at all. I am simply the mad prophet screaming at the heavens. A mother, at least, would engender obedience.”   She still refused to look at Ned.

 

 

 

Barbrey’s thin lips twisted gently. “I think this is a great opportunity. King’s Landing is teeming with handsome young men, war heroes and lofty statesmen. You will try making a good impression, won’t you, good sister?”

“I hope to make the best of impressions,” Lyanna answered over her spoon of soup. “Robert assures me it is vital that I do so.”   

“Do you think perhaps he will renew his offer?”

“One hopes not, and that is, indeed, far from my objective.”

“Are you hoping to bank on your father’s prestige to carry you through?”

“On the contrary, I am hoping to add to it. That is, if you can find someone else to watch the children while I am gone.”

 

 

 

“What of you, Miss Margaret? Have you any strong feelings one way or the other?” Robert questioned, his great beast of an automobile slowly coming to a halt.

Margaret laughed. “I do not dabble in the pursuit of politics. My cousin keep me as well-informed as I shall ever have cause to be.”

“That is a daring answer, to be sure.” He opened his own door stepping down. “Is is a lack of care which makes you speak of?”

“Mere confidence,” Margaret answered. “What Lyanna sets out to do, she sill surely accomplish.”

“I wish I were half as confident,” Lyanna cut in.

 

 

 

“And this here is someone you should already know.” Lyanna looked down at the figure on the bed, shocked to see the ravages of war.

“Brandon sends his regards, of course, Ser Elbert,” she spoke softly. Unlike Ned, whose thick scarring offered at least the illusion of smooth skin, the angry red wounds on Elbert Arryn’s face told a completely different tale.

“A clairvoyant, is he, that brother of yours?” Though his tone indicated no malice, Lyanna thought she heard some bitterness. Brandon had returned a complete man, after all.  

“You could say it runs in the family.” She put on a smile for good measure

 

 

 

“This will be your room.” Robert allowed her to have a look at her accommodations. “I hope it meets your expectations.” It was a fair sight. Lyanna stepped around her host, with a grateful nod.

“I am more anxious that you introduce me to the relevant parties.” He chuckled and allowed her  a few moments before responding.

“You have me, and you have Margaret in your corner. Surely you are not truly afraid.”

“You put much weight on my shoulders, Robert. Of course I am afraid.”

To that he said nothing, electing to bow his way out of the room, leaving her with the ensuing silence.   


End file.
